


Breaking the Ice

by Phosphorescent



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy/Steve Holiday Fic/Art Exchange, F/M, Gen, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Huddling For Warmth, Misunderstandings, Stranded, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phosphorescent/pseuds/Phosphorescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Steve is awkward until he isn't, Darcy is oblivious until she isn't, and Jane Foster and Tony Stark are to blame for everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking the Ice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Polexia_Aphrodite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polexia_Aphrodite/gifts).



> hardboiledmeggs generously gave me multiple prompts, so I opted for the first: "Steve and Darcy are driving through a snowstorm when their car dies. They have 1-2 hours before SHIELD can get to them and can't leave the car." It's not exactly what you asked for, but it's pretty close.
> 
> Sorry that it's late, and I hope that you enjoy it!

“Captain America hates me, Jane,” Darcy said. 

Looking up from her eggs, Jane said, “What? No he doesn’t, Darcy.”

“I spilled hot coffee on him the first time we met. Like, _scorching_ hot coffee.”

“Darcy –”

“I don’t think he’s said more than five words to me at a time. And he always avoids looking at me. I think it’s pretty clear he’s not a fan.” 

Jane said, “I don’t think Captain Rogers –”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, Captain America doesn’t really _hate_ anyone, except maybe Red Skull and Hitler and stuff,” Darcy agreed, using a spoon to push her cereal around. “So he thinks I’m a stupid kid instead – that’s not much better.”

Jane shrugged. “It’s possible.”

“Hey, you’re supposed to be on my side here!”

“I _am_ on your side,” Jane said patiently. “Look, why don’t you just ask him?”

Darcy snorted. “ _When_? In the minute and a half he’s in the same room alone with me once a week? Or in front of the rest of the team? Yeah, that wouldn’t be awkward at _all_.”

“Why does this bug you so much anyway?” Jane asked. 

“It doesn’t,” Darcy said, chugging down the last of her orange juice and setting her glass on the table with more force than necessary.

Jane arched an eyebrow skeptically but let the subject drop.

That was one of the many reasons Darcy _loved_ Jane. Jane knew when to stop digging when it came to personal stuff. (Which was, of course, in direct contrast to her attitude towards science, but that _so_ wasn’t the point.) 

Glad to be off the subject for reasons she refused to examine more closely, Darcy immersed herself in the morning paper on her phone.

Gradually, one by one, various inhabitants of the Tower made their way in and out the kitchen. 

Soon enough, Clint Barton was sitting next to her, chomping down on cold leftover pizza, and the awe-inspiring Pepper Potts was seated across from them, intent on her Blackberry.

Conversation flowed easily between them, so it came as a bit of a shock when Steve Rogers entered the room.

“Afternoon, Cap,” Clint said, nodding in Steve’s direction. 

“Barton,” Steve said, nodding politely in return. “There any of that pizza left?”

Jerking his head towards the refrigerator, Clint said, “In the fridge. Not much, though. You snooze, you loose.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” Steve replied, a small smile on his face, heading for the refrigerator.

Darcy was just polishing off her cereal when the man of the mansion made his first appearance.

“What do you mean you can’t –” Tony Stark grumbled into his phone as he walked into the kitchen. “Right. Fine. I’ll send someone to pick it up.” 

There was a beep as the call disconnected. 

Sighing heavily, he slipped into a seat next to Pepper.

“What happened?” she asked.

“ _Apparently_ ,” he said, “O&C doesn’t deliver this close to Christmas. No matter _how_ much money you throw at them.”

His tone was sour, giving Darcy the impression that the good people at O&C had had a word or two to say on that subject.

“Looks like Happy has an errand to run,” he added.

“Wait,” Pepper said, glancing up from her Blackberry. “Didn’t you give Happy today off?”

Tony shrugged.

“Yeah,” he began, “but –”

Frowning, Steve said, “I can do it, Tony.”

“No, no, Happy won’t mind,” Tony said, reaching for his phone.

“But if it’s his day off – ” Steve began.

“Do you know how much I pay him?” Tony scoffed. He paused for a split-second, then said, “Actually, _I_ don’t know how much I pay him. Pepper, how much are we paying Happy?”

“Not as much as he’s worth,” Pepper murmured.

“So – a lot,” Tony said. At Steve’s disapproving glance, he continued, “Look, if you get high enough on the food chain at SI, you get paid a considerable sum in exchange for having no time for a personal life; _everyone_ knows that.”

“How’d you think Stark got her to go out with him in the first place?” Clint Barton muttered faux sotto voice to Darcy, who tried (and failed) to stifle a snort of laughter.

“It just doesn’t seem right,” Steve said firmly. “Not so close to Christmas, anyway. And Happy told me that he was looking forward to seeing his nieces this year. Seems awful silly to bring him back for something someone else could do just as easily.”

Tony blinked.

“Happy has _nieces_?” he said. “Pepper, did you know Happy had nieces?”

“Yes, Tony,” Pepper said, looking faintly amused. “They receive something nice from you each year on their birthdays.”

“Ah, Pepper, light of my life, what _would_ I do without you?” Tony asked, throwing an arm around her and pulling her in for a quick kiss.

Smoothing her hair back into place, Pepper retorted, “Ruin the remaining 88% of your business and personal endeavors, I’m sure.”

 “Is that a scientific estimate, Ms. Potts?” Tony asked, leaning in closer again.

“ _Very_ scientific, Mr. Stark,” Pepper said crisply, but her dancing eyes belied her tone.

Torn between fascination and embarrassed awkwardness, Darcy couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“Hey! Lovebirds!” Clint said. “Cut it out. Impressionable minors present.”

Occupied with kissing Pepper he might be, but that didn’t stop Tony from giving Clint the middle finger.

Fighting back a flush at Clint’s comment, Darcy drawled, “Neither, thanks. Ass.” 

“Who said I was talking about you?” Clint retorted. “I’m talking about Captain Virginal over there.”

This time it was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Ha ha, very funny. When are you guys going to stop it with that name?”

“When it stops being funny,” Tony said, finally pulling away from Pepper. “And I know why you’re so grumpy, Barton – you’re not getting any with your girlfriend away.”

Clint just grinned insouciantly and said, “I’d like to hear you say that in front of her, Stark.”

“Which part?” Darcy asked, finding herself morbidly curious.

Grin sharpening, Clint said, “Either.”

“Returning to the original subject,” Steve said, “I’d be happy to make the trip for you, Tony.”

“Hey, if you want to, go ahead,” Tony said with a shrug. “No skin off my back. Jarvis, could you send the address to Cap’s phone?”

“I already took the liberty of doing so, Sir,” JARVIS replied. 

“Traitor,” Tony mumbled affectionately.

“Darcy will go too,” Jane said suddenly. “She’s been saying that she needs to get out of the Tower more, haven’t you, Darcy?”

Darcy opened her mouth to protest, only to be kicked under the table by Jane. Hard.

“ _Owww_ -kay,” she said, forcing a smile through the stinging of her shin. “Yeah. Need to get out for a bit. Totally.”

A little over an hour later found her and the Captain on the road in awkward silence, having already exhausted their respective arsenals of topics for stiltedly polite conversation.

Stupid Jane, Darcy thought sourly, pulling out her iPod and popping her earbuds in her ears. She should never have let the scientist strong-arm her into coming along for this trip. (She'd probably been plotting this all along, the sneaky woman.)

Stupid Steve for being all stiff and judgey.

Stupid _her_ for thinking that she could connect with the man in the first place.

She was just getting into her rant when the car whined, stuttered, then jerked to a complete stop.

Tugging the earbuds out, Darcy said, “Hey, what’s going on?”

“That’s what I wanna know,” Steve said, mouth twisted wryly as he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door. 

A cold gust of wind bit into her skin, accompanied by thick snowflakes. 

Darcy shivered until the car door closed again, but her relief didn’t last long. She hadn’t noticed at first, but the heater had stopped working when the engine did.

“Shit.”

Still, at least the view wasn’t all bad.

Sure, they might be stuck on an abandoned back road in the middle of what was starting to look like a snowstorm, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t appreciate a fine ass when it was in front of her. 

Chafing her hands together, Darcy allowed herself to take in a nice long view of said ass as Steve walked around to the front of the car.

She re-started her iPod and hunched her shoulders inwards for added warmth.

Before long, she was bopping her head back and forth, lost in the music.

 _Click_. 

The car door had reopened and shut. Darcy pressed pause and said, “So…?”

Frowning, Steve said, “Don’t suppose you’re any good with cars?”

“Well, I’m no Tony Stark, but I’m OK with ‘em.”

When she’d gotten her first car back in high school, her dad had insisted on teaching her the basics of car repair. She hadn’t been allowed to go out driving alone until he was satisfied that she could do more than just change a tire if her car broke down.

Still, she was _much_ better with computers than cars.

“I bet I can fix it,” she said with more confidence than she felt, pulling her coat closer around her and reaching for the door handle.

Icy pellets of snow stung her from the second she stepped out of the car. Darcy shivered, the chill settling deep into her bones.

Why the _hell_ hadn’t she worn a heavier coat or gloves?

Oh, that’s right, because she’d thought she could just run in and out of the heated car.

Hadn’t her Girl Scout camping trips taught her _anything_ about being prepared for the worst? She really should have known better. 

Reluctantly, she trudged through the snow to the front of the car and lifted the hood.

Minutes seemed to stretch into hours as she examined its contents.

The problems (there were more than one, unfortunately) were easy enough to find, but solutions were considerably more difficult.

She tried fiddling around with one of the broken case hardened gears to no avail.

Cold-stiffened fingers made her clumsy, and her fumbling snapped one of the already-broken gears. It dropped down into a crevice in the engine with a _clink_ and a _thud_.

“Fuck! Fuckity fuck fuck _fuck_!” Darcy groaned, banging her head briefly against the open car hood.

Snowflakes pricked at her eyes, as did a few hot tears of frustration.

It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago she’d been warm and dry in the kitchen next to Jane. 

Stupid people with their stupid errands. Stupid Jane with her _stupid_ interfering ways that forced her to be here in the first place…

She banged her head against the hood once more for good measure, then roughly wiped her eyes off with the sleeve of her now snow-encrusted coat.

“What happened?” Steve called.

“Nothing!” Darcy called back. “Just me being an idiot.”

 _As usual_ , she added silently. 

Why had she thought she could fix this car if Captain America himself couldn’t?

 _Idiot_.

Slamming the hood back shut in aggravation, she stomped back into the car, hands stuffed in her pockets.

“No luck?” Steve asked.

 _Obviously_ , Darcy thought with more than a little bitterness. There was no need for him to rub it in.

“I called the Tower. Ms. Potts – _Pepper_ – said that she’d send someone out to pick us up, but that it might take them a while, what with the snow and all.”

 _Great_.

“How long a while are we talking?”

“About three hours,” Steve said somewhat apologetically. “Found a blanket and a couple of water bottles in the trunk while you were checking the engine, though.”

“Oh thank _God_ ,” Darcy said, eagerly grabbing the blanket from his hands and hugging it to her chest.

After a few more seconds of cuddling the blanket, she shook it out and wrapped herself in a portion of it.

“Here’s your half,” she said, nodding her head in the direction of the rest of the blanket.

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine,” Steve said.

Darcy raised an eyebrow at this.

“For now, maybe, but for three hours? Not even you can stay warm that long in this weather without help.”

“Then I’ll use it when I get cold. In the meantime, you need it more than I do.”

“Don’t be a self-sacrificing idiot,” Darcy said with asperity, suddenly fed up with the man’s unwillingness to share a blanket.

Probably thinks he’ll get cooties or something, she thought resentfully.

“You may be a super soldier,” she added, “but if you don’t try to stay warm, you’ll soon be a super icicle. _Again_.”

Steve made no comment, but Darcy immediately felt guilty.

Maybe that comment had been a little too far.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I crossed a line there and that wasn’t cool. Just… share the damn blanket with me, alright? I’ll feel guilty if I’m warm and you’re freezing.”

A small smile quirking at his lips, Steve said, “Awfully stubborn, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” Darcy agreed cheerfully, popping the ‘p’. “So you might as well go along with what I say.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve agreed solemnly, eyes dancing.

He tried to pull the other edge of the blanket around him, but it was simply too small. Or he was too large. Either way, it wasn’t working.

With obvious reluctance, he slid in closer to her.

“I don’t bite, I promise,” Darcy said dryly, scooting closer to him until they were shoulder to shoulder. “At least, not without permission.”

Had she been looking at him, Darcy would have been surprised by Steve’s reaction to her words. As it was, her eyes were trained on his broad chest rather than his face.

“My god, you’re like a furnace,” she said, trying not to obviously snuggle into his warmth.

It was hard, though. He wasn’t just warm, he smelled good too – like cotton and soap, with a hint of something spicy. And the side that she was pressed against was tantalizingly firm and muscled.

Life was really unfair sometimes, Darcy decided.

Here she was, stuck in an isolated spot with a hot guy who could barely tolerate her. Typical Darcy luck, really.

Suddenly it was all too much. It wouldn’t be so bad if Steve would just admit that he didn’t like her, but this charade of his was getting on her nerves. She just wanted him to make up his damn mind and treat her one way or the other. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask?

And so, without stopping to question herself, she let it all out.

“Look, I know you don’t like me, OK? You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

Brow creased, Steve asked, “Why would you think that?”

“It’s not exactly rocket science,” Darcy said. “You avoid being alone with me or sitting next to me. You make frowny judgment faces whenever I talk about fun stuff.”

Steve frowned and Darcy said, “Look! Like that! Right there! You’re doing it again.”

“That’s just my face,” Steve said slowly.

“Yeah, your ‘judging Darcy Lewis’ face,” Darcy snorted.

Steve blinked, long lashes dark against the apple of his cheek. 

“No judging, honest,” he said. “Though, uh, if I _were_ to judge you… well, you wouldn’t exactly be found wanting.”

This time it was Darcy’s turn to blink.

“Come again?”

“I’m, uh, not very good with women,” he said. “My pal Bucky would’ve said that was an understatement, in fact. But, well, I think you’re real swell.”

“I call bullshit,” Darcy said flatly. “I know you don’t act like this around Natasha, because she’d kill you for it. Same goes for Hill.”

“That’s different,” Steve said, fumbling for the right words. “I – we _work_ together.”

Darcy frowned.

“So what, you don’t see them as women or something? ‘Cause let me tell you, that’s kinda screwed up.”

“No, it’s just… I _know_ that they’re women,” Steve said at last with a shrug, helplessly repeating himself, “but – it’s different.”

“Oookaaaay,” Darcy drawled.

“I don’t hate you, Darcy,” Steve said earnestly. “Honest.”

He met her eyes squarely, as though willing her to believe him, and Darcy shifted beneath the intensity of his gaze.

“And I’m sorry if I ever made you believe otherwise.”

 _‘You wouldn’t exactly be found wanting.’_ Now what the hell had he meant by that?

Quieting that part of her brain, Darcy concentrated on the most important part of what Steve had said: he didn’t dislike her. He’d _never_ disliked her. He thought she was ‘swell’.

She scrutinized his face for a few seconds, searching his eyes for proof of his sincerity. The proof wasn’t long in coming: his whole face practically  _screamed_ ‘honesty,' and his eyes were no different.

Suddenly, with a decisive nod, Darcy said, “Apology accepted. Friends?”

For a split second, she was afraid that she’d presumed too much.

Then a smile of genuine pleasure spread across Steve’s face. The difference that it made was startling, to say the least. Darcy had always been aware that Steve was handsome, but this… this was a whole new level.

There was a dimple on the right corner of his chin… she hadn’t noticed that before.

“Friends,” Steve agreed, holding out his hand.

Abruptly jerked back to reality, Darcy grasped it with one of her own and gave it a firm shake.

His hand was warm, and the rub of his calloused fingers against the back of her hand sent tingles through her veins.

Darcy promptly dropped it.

To distract herself from her body’s sudden reaction to his nearness, she said, “How long did you say it would take for them to get here again?”

“Little over three hours.”

“Well I hope they hurry,” Darcy muttered, pulling her portion of the blanket in closer and crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m freezing my tits off.”

Steve’s cheeks flushed faintly.

“Oh come _on_ ,” Darcy said. “You’ve been in the 21st century for almost a year, dude. You should be used to that kind of language by now. And weren’t you in the army, anyway?”

“Yes, but –” he began.

(Darcy had no way of knowing this, but the language in and of itself wasn’t an issue for Steve. No, the problem was the fact that coarse language coming from Darcy’s lips sounded positively _obscene_ – and he liked it just a little too much.) 

“I know, I know,” she said, briefly flapping an arm from beneath the blanket. “Girls didn’t swear back then yadda yadda. Not that ‘tits’ is a swear word, but… ya know. And besides, I bet women swore all the time – they just didn’t do it in front of you delicate menfolk.”

She tossed him a saucy grin, and Steve’s lips quirked into a smile in return.

“To be fair, even for the 21st century, I’ve got a bit of a mouth on me,” Darcy admitted. “Used to drive my mom crazy.”

“Used to?” Steve asked, quickly dragging his eyes away from the aforementioned mouth.

“Oh yeah,” Darcy said. “Which is funny, seeing as she and my dad are both kinda hippies. Sex? ‘Use protection, dear.’ Weed? ‘Have fun, sweetheart.’ Swearing? ‘Wash your mouth out with soap, young lady!’”

Steve snorted at her mimicry.

“I know, right?” Darcy said. “Totally illogical.” 

“So it doesn’t bother her any more?”

“Well, I don’t _live_ with her anymore,” Darcy said. “I can keep my mouth shut for limited periods of time, it’s the all-day, every day thing that screws me over.” 

“I can see how that would a problem,” Steve agreed. 

From there, conversation drifted from the topic of their childhoods – 

(“…and so Mrs. Roth told us that if we ever messed with her Friday afternoon baking again, she’d tan our hides good and proper,” Steve finished.

Darcy shook her head, grinning.)

– to how Darcy ended up at Culver –

(“I just needed to get out of Philly, ya know? I mean, Culver’s scholarship offer wasn’t quite as good as PhilaU’s, but…”)

– to 21st century music –

(“So you’re telling me that you’ve been _trolling Tony Stark_?”

Steve’s grin was downright wicked.

“I _approve_. Hi five, dude.”)

– to politics.

(“Guess I’m just naïve, but I always figured there’d be more advancements by now.”

“How so?”

“Well, like equal pay, for one. Shouldn’t matter what race or sex you are, so long as you can do the work.”

Darcy snorted cynically. “ _Should_ ,” she emphasized. “People are shitty. And even when they aren’t consciously prejudiced, they’re usually still happy to pay workers less when they can get away with it.”

“That’s another thing,” Steve said, warming to his topic. “When did unions become the bad guys?”

“Oh, Steve. Steve, Steve, Steve. Let me explain you a thing…”)

Darcy was surprised by how easy it was to talk to Steve now that the proverbial ice between them had been broken.

And for all their differences, it turned out they liked a lot of the same movies and books.

Somehow or other, they drifted onto the subject of what both of them had been up to post Chitauri invasion.

“Figured it was only right to help with the cleanup, seeing as I helped cause the mess,” Steve said with a shrug.

“Most people would say you did enough defending the city,” Darcy pointed out. “No one would’ve blamed you if you’d taken a little time off to recuperate. God knows the rest of the Avengers did.”

“I woulda blamed me,” Steve said. “Not, uh, that there’s anything wrong with what the others did. Barton had his head screwed with – that’ll mess a fellow up. He needed a little time off, and I’m glad Nat was able to be there for him. And Dr. Banner – well, I can’t blame him for wanting to avoid a situation where he might Hulk-out again. Thor had to bring Loki back to Asgard, so he didn’t have time to stick around and help, and Tony…” He trailed off here, then said, “Helping out like that isn’t really Tony’s style. I think it makes him feel uncomfortable. And he was awfully busy with his company. But, uh, he donated a lotta money to the rebuilding, and that did a lotta good.”

He shrugged again. “I was the only one able to help out, that’s all, but I didn’t do anything anybody else wouldn’t in my position.

“Of course not,” Darcy scoffed gently, nudging his bicep with her elbow. “Seriously, stop being so perfect. It makes the rest of us look bad.”

Frowning, Steve said, “Thought we’d established that I’m anything but perfect. A perfect man never would have made you think he hated you just because he –”

He abruptly cut himself off.

Darcy raised her eyebrows.

“Don’t leave me hanging, dude. ‘just because he’ _what_?”

Steve seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then squared his jaw and said, “Just ‘cause he thought you were pretty. I mean, not that you’re _only_ pretty. You’re funny and smart and… you don’t apologize for who you are; I like that.”

Darcy blinked. “You’re shitting me.”

“I’d never… not about something like this, anyway,” Steve insisted. “I’ve liked you for ages.”

“But – you’d barely spoken with me before today,” Darcy protested, head whirling with this new information.

“True,” Steve agreed deprecatingly. “But I listened to you talking to the others an awful lot. Was a little embarrassing how much I listened in on your conversations, actually; Nat was starting to threaten to tell you if I didn’t.”

His gaze was steady, and Darcy’s lungs suddenly ceased to take in enough air. Her skin prickled in awareness as his eyes traced a path from her eyes down to her lips and back up again, branding her with their heat.

There was something, Darcy decided fuzzily, deeply unfair about men who had lashes that long and thick. She could feel each blink’s phantom feathery touch against her cheek.

Her tongue darted out to wet her cold-chapped lips, and Steve absentmindedly echoed her movements.

Swallowing hard, Darcy said, “Why didn’t you just say so in the first place? That you liked me, that is.”

A slight smile on his lips, Steve replied, “I’ve always been a little slow about these things.”

Darcy’s lips turned upwards in an answering smile, giddiness fizzling in her veins like champagne.

Huh. That was an apt simile, actually. She felt kind of tipsy under Steve’s gaze.

…was she really that fickle? Hadn’t she been cursing his existence mere hours before?

It was hard to think coherently when he was aiming that look at her.

No, she decided. No, she wasn’t. She’d liked Steve for a while… that was why she’d been so upset that he seemingly didn’t like _her_. It had hurt to think that he disapproved of her.

And with that determined, she returned her full focus to the man beside her.

He _liked_ her. He thought she was pretty and smart and funny. He… was looking at her nervously, as she hadn’t said anything yet.

To hell with this. She was Darcy freakin’ Lewis.

Heart hammering in her chest, Darcy leaned towards him.

Or was it the other way around?

They were within a hair’s breadth of one another, and she could feel his breath tickle her face, almost feel the faint stubble on his chin –

_Bzzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz._

They both started away from each other in surprise.

“I… that’s my phone,” Steve said, pulling it out.

Darcy wanted to either laugh or scream in frustration. 

“Go on, answer it,” she said.

Giving her an apologetic grimace, he did so.

“Rogers,” he snapped. Pause. Then, “Thank you, Tony. We’ll see you soon.”

He pressed the end button and slid the phone back into his coat pocket.

“That was Tony,” he said, rather unnecessarily. “He was calling to let us know that he’s about five minutes out.”

“Great,” Darcy said, with a smile that was only half-forced.

She was looking forward to being properly warm again, but had Tony _had_ to call then? 

Nope. This wasn’t awkward at _all_.

“So, uh –” she began.

“I was wondering if –” Steve said.

They both broke off and chuckled self-consciously.

“You first,” Darcy said.

Shaking his head, Steve said, “No, no, ladies first.”

“Even if the lady wants the guy to go first?” Darcy asked, arching an eyebrow. “Seems kinda counterproductive to me.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of her point.

Then, squaring his shoulders, he said, “When we get out of here… would you like to go on a date sometime? With me, I mean?”

A smile spread across her face.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”

Steve positively beamed, and Darcy suspected that her smile looked every bit as foolish as his.

She desperately wanted to finish what they’d started earlier, but she’d be damned if she let their first kiss get interrupted by Tony Stark. Not while this thing between them was still so new and tenuous.

So, reluctantly, she made herself move a bit further away from Steve so as to make it easier to resist the temptation.

It was a good thing she'd done so, because Tony pulled up one minute later in a Mercedes-Benz ML63 AMG, loud rock musing blaring.

Without bothering to roll down a window, he gestured for them to join him.

Darcy shared an amused look with Steve.

A blast of wind and snow hit her the second she left the shelter of the car. Shivering uncontrollably, Darcy hurried over to the other vehicle, Steve at her heels.

In contrast to the car they’d been in before, this one was extremely luxurious – and, more importantly, _warm_. 

“Oh _God_ , that’s better,” Darcy moaned, holding her hands over one of the air vents.

“Not the first time I’ve been called God, but certainly the first time I’ve been called it in this context,” Tony said cheerfully.

Darcy rolled her eyes.

“So how did you two pass all that time, anyway?” he continued, waggling his eyebrows exaggeratedly.

“There’s this thing called conversation, Tony,” Steve said. “You should try it sometime. That’s what we did – nothing scandalous about it.” 

“Ooo!” Tony said, smirking. “Did I hit a nerve?”

Already sick of their macho posturing, Darcy said, “Weeelll, it was a _little_ scandalous. Sorry, Steve, but the guilt of keeping this just to us is _killing_ me.” She paused for dramatic emphasis, then said, “We plotted world domination, OK? Steve has agreed to be my minion.”

“Darcy made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” Steve agreed straight-faced, and Darcy’s affection for him doubled in that moment.

“Hey, how come you’re the one picking us up, anyway?” Darcy added. “Not that I’m not grateful, but don’t you have more important things to do? I mean, when was the last time you even _drove_ a car? You’re not gonna crash us, right?”

“I am offended – offended! – that you would doubt my selflessness,” Tony sniffed in a tone that could only be described as prissy. 

Darcy snorted.

“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up,” Tony said dryly. “More to the point, I’m kinda offended you think I can’t handle driving a _car_.” 

“She brings up a good point,” Steve said. “Why _are_ you the one picking us up?”

“Clint,” Tony said, “is singing Christmas carols.”

He seemed to think this was explanation enough.

Confused, Darcy said, “OK?”

“Clearly you haven’t heard the man sing.”

As a matter of fact, Darcy had; he was _good_.

“I’m sure he’s not _that_ bad,” Steve said.

“He sounds like a dying walrus,” Tony said flatly, “and he kept following me everywhere. This was my last hope.” 

“What’d you do to him?” Darcy asked.

“Nothing!” Tony protested. “OK… I might have touched his bow. But I was just trying to figure out some new schematics!”

And so, the whole way back, Tony regaled them with stories of Clint’s creative revenge.

Warmth flared in Darcy’s chest as she exchanged amused glances with Steve.

How could she ever have thought herself indifferent to his opinions? 

How could she ever have thought that he hated her?

Now that she knew the truth, it all seemed so obvious.

Steve inched his hand across the seat so that their fingers were touching and gave her a small, private smile. 

 _Happy belated Hannukah to me_ , Darcy thought smugly.  _And a happy new year to come._

 


End file.
